Forest of Dean
by 1755
Summary: Dean leaves.


'Seamus, kiss me,' says Dean roughly. They are in Seamus' bed in his Ireland home, Dean having slipped in after the other Finnigans had fallen asleep. It is late, and Dean's deep voice is making Seamus shiver with anticipation and desire. He kisses Dean, intertwining their tongues fervently until Seamus doesn't know where he ends and Dean begins. It is often like that with them; they are so close emotionally that if feels as if their hearts beat at the same pace and their thoughts move to an identical, quick rhythm. Like now.

Dean moans into Seamus' mouth and when he takes a breath, Seamus only uses the opportunity to lick his way lower, biting then in turn kissing all Dean's sensitive spots, the ones he knows so well. He senses Dean's need and the urgency in the voice, breathing _please_. Seamus gladly obliges. He slips Dean's shorts off and stares at the hard length in front of him. Without a second though, he engulfs it with his warm mouth, sucking and bobbing his head up and down. It is uncomfortable, but hearing the raw noises Dean makes is worth it.

'Fuck, _Seamus,_ ' Dean groans throatily, gripping his boyfriend's sandy hair and pulling on it. Seamus does an odd sort of chuckle, and Dean moans because of the wonderful vibration it causes. Pleasure shoots up his spine. Forcing back the urge to gag, Seamus practically swallows Dean's cock and Dean explodes in his mouth with a wild ' _Shay!'_

His voice is deep and rough and beautiful— the most beautiful thing Seamus has ever heard. Seamus drinks away every last bitter, salty drop of Dean, finishes himself off (it really doesn't take that long), and slithers up beside Dean's slick and toned body to rest on top of him. Seamus sees Dean's chocolate eyes in the moonlight; they are filled with fatigue and love and oddly, tears.

'What's wrong?' Seamus whispers, his voice hoarse. He looks at Dean with worry, but is surprised when he feels Dean's lips on his, hungry and desperate. He doesn't object, but he finds it strange that Dean is doing this; he must be tasting himself, something he never usually likes. Seamus lets Dean have his way and deepens the kiss—it seems to be what he wants.

There's something Seamus can't quite identify in it. Longing? Sorrow? Pain?

Why?

Dean pulls away eventually, cupping Seamus' handsome, boyish face in his hands. He traces the Irishman's cheek, tears spilling unwillingly onto his own.

'Dean?'

'I love you, okay? Remember that,' Dean says softly, leaning in to press his lips against Seamus' again quickly. 'Don't—' kiss '—ever—' another '—forget it.'

'I won't. Why are you crying?' Seamus asks, utterly bewildered. He takes a hand off Dean's fit chest to wipe away the tears streaming down the face he loves so much; a face he's had memorized since they were 11. Dean shakes his head, choosing to wrap his arms tightly around Seamus' waist instead of answering. Seamus lowers his head to fit it snugly into the crook of Dean's neck. He sighs, confusion overpowering the content he should be feeling. It is warm in Dean's arms, and he feels safe and protected here. This should be perfect, but it's not because he still feels Dean shaking and there are hot teardrops falling upon his head.

'Goodnight,' Dean whispers, his voice so normally confident and strong, breaking. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths to calm himself.

'I love you too,' Seamus murmurs before nestling deeper into Dean's arms and sleep overtakes him.

When he wakes up, Dean is gone. There is no note; nothing left to remind Seamus that his lover was ever there but now bittersweet memories and a musky scent.

Seamus supposes Dean has run away from the Death Eater threatening to kidnap muggleborns and do God knows what with them. It's a good thing he doesn't know where Dean has gone, he forces himself to think. He tries to convince himself that it's for the best and that he'll see his boyfriend again soon. He doesn't know if that's true or not, but he'll sure as hell keep telling himself it's the truth. Will Dean come back to him? Will he be broken, no longer healthy and whole? Will he be alive? But Seamus was never good at Divination and it's hard to force yourself to believe in something you don't know to be true.

Sometimes, during the year, Seamus thinks that Dean was never real at all— just wishful thinking. A figment of his overactive imagination. But someone will always give him a pitying look when he sits alone at the Gryffindor table, or Ginny will gently murmur 'Have you heard anything from Dean lately?' and the reality will come crashing down upon his already dizzied head. Other times, Seamus slips into Dean's old bed in the dormitory, and though it no longer smells of Dean, Seamus can pretend it does. He can imagine Dean next to him, hugging him fiercely and rubbing and kissing and sucking all the right places, until he cries out Dean's name loudly enough to startle Neville from his pain-induced slumber.

Seamus wonders if Dean does the same thing.


End file.
